Redemption
by Reign
Summary: Severus Snape, in his defining moment, discovers that a true hero is never alone.


**Disclaimer: **Thanks JK, for everything.

**Author's Note: **When I wrote _Expletus Nox_ three years ago, I had no idea that my theory would slightly parallel the events of the book. This takes place during Book 7, if you have not read _Deathly Hallows_, please be forewarned. This is in the moment of Snape's death.

He deserves his own happily ever after.

**Dedication:** To lost loves, past mistakes, and the hope of redemption.

**Redemption**

By Reign

"_My Lord!" he protested, raising a wand._

"_It cannot be any other way," said Voldemort. "I must master the wand, Severus. Master the wand, and I master Potter at last … Kill."_

At this moment, it was too late to back out, too late to run, too late to move—and he knew it.

He took a reflexive step back, eyes widened as the large serpent lunged at him with murderous intent. He felt two sharp punctures in his neck and an excruciating searing pain shoot down his neck, his back, to his toes, and all the way back. The sheer weight of Nagini was enough to knock him off balance, but coupled with the venom coursing through his veins, he toppled over and slammed into the ground in a messy heap. He heard a terrible scream in the distance, and only when he peeled open his eyes did he realize it was his own tormented voice crying out. He felt a damp puddle collect around his body and panic slowly crept into his mind, not from the fear of death, but from the fear of disgrace. He would die within a few seconds and no one would understand the motives he worked under, people would throw dirt on his name, and he would be forever remembered as a coward. A _coward_. For all his sacrifice, he would be remembered as a lonely coward, one who came into this world with no friends, and one who would leave without them.

He would die alone.

He felt air brush across his face as a figure revealed itself under a cloak, with what little energy he had left, he looked up. His vision was blurry from the blood loss, but he could make out the face well enough to identify it. It was impossible for him to mistake those eyes. There wasn't much time left. When Harry leaned down, he reached out to clutch the boy's robes.

"Take … it … Take … it," he pleaded, shocked to hear how weak his voice was.

The silvery blue substance leaking from him mixed in with his blood, but there was enough of it to be collected and viewed in the pensieve. This was the only reason Severus was fighting to stay alive this long, he felt the inevitable creeping up on him and tried his hardest to delay it until he could pass on his story to the boy. His story could not be lost, they had to know the truth.

Meanwhile, Harry was working furiously to scoop up the memory in a jar handed to him by Hermione, trying his hardest to steady his hand and save as much as he could. For obvious reasons, he avoided Snape's gaze. Snape knew how the boy loathed him from the minute they met, and deep down inside, Snape could not blame him. He knew that the reason for his behavior would be explained in the memory pouring out of him. The scar on the boy's forehead was not only a reminder of what Harry had lost, but what Snape had as well. People failed to realize the weight of Snape's guilt, the private burden that he carried from day to day that tainted his mood and stripped him of happiness. Harry's tragic and much publicized life was because of him—and he knew it. He was responsible for the boy's misery, and deserving of every bit of his hate.

"Look … at … me," he whispered, using the last of his energy for the request.

Their eyes locked, a most curious expression was on Snape's face as he deeply gazed into those green eyes, Lily's eyes. He wondered if he would see her again in the afterlife, he wondered if he was worthy to share a place with her in Heaven. He wondered if there was a Heaven at all. A trickle of heartache and despair crept into him when he thought of the prospect of dying a damned man with a broken soul. Then he remembered that Harry had the memory, although he would not be alive to personally explain his actions, he hoped that he had earned the boy's understanding—and above all—forgiveness.

The room around him began to dim, the pounding in his ears started to quiet, and the pain he felt started to recede. It was time to leave.

_I tried my best_, he told himself. _I did what I could. I'm proud of my life._

He met death proudly. Alone.

As it turned out, there was no white light, there were no angels, there were no fluffy clouds, or anything else of the sort. He was instead surprised and mildly unnerved to find himself standing in his black robes, completely unharmed, and in the middle of an empty train station. A thin white mist surrounded the area, but aside from that, it was completely desolate.

_This_ is what Heaven looked like …? _King's Cross_?

"Didn't I always tell you not to play with snakes?" a light, but distinctly familiar voice called from behind.

His muscles visibly tensed, instinctively reaching for his wand, but discovering that it was nowhere to be found. That voice …

He slowly turned around, and faced her.

She was standing a few steps away from him wearing a grin and a knowing look. Behind her were a group of familiar faces, standing a respectful distance as to not interrupt this precious reunion.

"… _Lily_?" he asked, disbelievingly. He took a cautious step forward.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" she replied with a smile.

"Too long," he said tightly, containing his emotions to the best of his abilities. Being Severus Snape, this was usually an easy task. But here … and now … it was like trying to tame a Hungarian Horntail in his heart.

"Thank you for everything you've done, Severus. Truly," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

He didn't seem to hear a word she said. "I'm sorry for what I did," he blurted out, the words tumbling out of his mouth. "I didn't know what would happen at the time. I thought I was doing the right thing. It was all my fault. I'm _so_ sorry," he muttered repeatedly. "I didn't know--"

"--It's okay," she said soothingly, pulling him into a hug. "It's all right now. Everything will be all right."

He spent a few more seconds muttering apologies into her hair, melting to her side as he embraced her tightly. He didn't care who was watching, he didn't care what they thought, he had waited for this for too long. Now that it was here, he relished the moment.

"I think his hair looks much more kept in death," Fred Weasley whispered to the man beside him.

Remus Lupin elbowed him in the side. "_Fred_," he said pointedly.

Fred smiled weakly.

A few moments passed before he pulled away and wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his robes, feeling like that ten year old boy at the park all over again. Lily slowly led him towards the group, all of the faces familiar, and none of them angry. He glanced at them, eyes darting from person to person; colleagues, comrades, mentors, students … friends. _Friends_. His mind seemed to leap on that word and it filled him with a warmth he lacked for years. He spotted one man in particular, a man whose presence and legacy had haunted him all his life, and cut through the crowd to stand before him. This too, was a long time coming.

At first, he didn't know what to say, so he decided that perhaps words weren't necessary. He simply extended a hand to James Potter.

James, who was beaming at him, did not hesitate to take the offered hand and shake it. He had the look of someone who had patiently waited for this moment, and looked considerably happier after it occurred.

"Thank you for your sacrifice," he said with the utmost gratitude. "Thank you for looking after my son."

"And my Godson," Sirius chimed in heartily, rounding them and patting Snape on the back.

Mad-Eye grunted approvingly.

"Today, you died a most honorable death, Severus Snape," the voice of Albus Dumbledore commented with pride. "A death worthy of a true hero."

At the sound of that, Lily's smile got wider and she let out a pleasant laugh that was music to his ears, reminiscent of their time together as children. She firmly wrapped her delicate hand around his and looked up at him with those brilliant green eyes.

"Welcome home, Severus."

For the first time in a long time, he smiled back.

_I'm not alone._

**FIN.  
**

**Author's Note:** Cowards die a thousand deaths. The valiant never taste death but once. R/R please.


End file.
